


Negan Smut Week

by BurningRain



Category: Negan - Fandom, The Walking Dead
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-19 10:49:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9436865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurningRain/pseuds/BurningRain
Summary: Hey y'all... it's fucking Negan Smut Week!





	1. Monday: Hey Good Looking Whatchu Got Cookin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StrangersAngel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrangersAngel/gifts).



I'd always prided myself on being a great cook, especially before when we had lived off trips to the dollar store. I had a knack for being able to make something wonderful out of what was essentially garbage. A lot of it was just being resourceful and clever but I'd always maintained that the secret to good food on a bad budget was music. Everybody puts a part of themselves into the food they cook and if that person is sad, angry, resentful.... you can always taste it. The good stuff comes from happiness and passion, something that was in short supply these days. I'd had my share of darkness before the world imploded, I figure that's how I've lasted so long. The secret to making happy food when you are droning in a sea of despair is music that lifts your soul. Always has been.

 

I told all this to Negan one night after regaining the sense he'd properly fucked out of me. He'd made a joke after going down on me, something along the lines of 'compliments to the chef', which had gone unappreciated at the time but had sent us into a fit of googles as we lay there after. Somehow we'd gone from there to talking about how much I missed cooking, being able to make people happy for a little while. He asked me if I wanted to cook for The Saviours sometime and I could feel myself light up at the prospect. So here we are.

 

The dinner service for the rest of the community had been over hours ago, leaving me all alone in a massive kitchen and free to cook whatever I wanted to.

 

I didn't have any music to play but I could hear the full rumble of The Saviours out in the mess hall. Simon had set up some rec shit; pool table, dart board, little relic of a TV set playing an old stand up comedy special, and a few decks of cards running various games. They sounded happy out there and that was close enough to music for me.

 

Negan's bubbling laughter carries through the hall and brought a smile to my face. As I cooked I allowed my mind to wander. I'd never known a man like Negan before, I wasn't even sure that there had ever been any men like Negan before. I didn't even mind sharing, though it didn't hurt knowing that I was his favorite. Nobody else ever got to spend the night. They really didn't know what they were missing out on which made it all the better; morning sex with Negan was fucking mind blowing. Best way to start the day, surrounded by his warmth. After cumming like that nothing else the rest of the day could even faze me.

 

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't hear him come in. I have no idea how long he'd been there, leaning against a refrigerating unit, watching me as I daydreamed about fucking him. Everything was set and ready, nothing to do now but wait for it to finish. I turned to set the cutting board in the sink and nearly jumped out of my skin.

 

He smiled cheekily at me and I rolled my eyes, sticking out my tongue as I went on about preparing everything. I turned back to the stove and stirred one of the pots I'd set to simmer. Long arms wrapped around my middle from behind, his cheek pressed to the side of my head as we swayed. He began to sing in a pleasantly husky baritone that rumbled through his chest and into my back.

 

"Heeeeey good lookin', whaaaaatchu got cookin'," And then I cut in with my much softer voice. 

 

"How's about cookin' somethiiiiin' up with meeeeee." I leaned back into him, shifting me hips so I'd run up against him. He growled in my ear and tightened his grip around my middle.

 

"You knew that up and I'll take you right here on this damn countertop." I turned my face into the crook of his neck and pushed back against him forcefully, grinding against him in earnest. One hand moved up to squeeze my breast while his hips pressed forward against me. I let out a moan and reached behind me to clutch his hip to keep him in place as I continued to grind. He groaned and began placing hot open mouthed kisses on my neck while his free hand bunched up my skirt and began rubbing me through my panties.

 

"Holy fucking shit, you're fucking drenched!" He said breathily. My own breathing was labored as I rutted against his hand, desperate for more friction.

 

"Yeah I was really fucking hoping you'd come through those doors." Another growl ripped from his throat as he pulled me to our left and away from the dangers of the stovetop.

 

One hand on my throats pulling my head back so he could suck at my pulse point as the other continued to knead my breast through my bra.

 

"Tell daddy how you want it." He rasped.

 

"Just fuck me and don't you dare stop." He pushed me forward so I was bent over the countertop, just as he'd promised. He fumbled with his belt a moment before freeing himself. He yanked my panties to the side unceremoniously and thrust himself inside with no hesitation. He fucked into me at such a brutal pace that I struggled to control the litany of moans and cries that came spilling from me. My arms scrambled for something to hold on to as I gave myself over to one orgasm and then another. Negans hips began to snap forward at an irregular pace and I knew he was close. His arm shot out next to us and he grabbed at one of the dishcloths I'd hung on the handle of one of the ovens. The moment he pulled out I fell to my knees, legs still shaking too much to hold myself upright. Negan came into the dishcloth with a strangled grunt as he braced himself against the countertop.

 

He stuffed himself back into his pants before sinking down on the floor next to me and pulling me close.

 

"How much longer 'till food's done?" He asked, still breathing heavily.

 

"Twenty minutes." I mumbled, still basking in the glow from the orgasms and very much hoping he wasn't about to leave.

 

"Good. I'm going to need at least fifteen to unscramble my fucking brains. Fucking hell, the things you fucking do to me, doll." I laughed and he pulled me even tighter.

 

Dinner with The Saviors was so much better than I had even hoped. There was so much laughter and warm companionship; everyone truly seemed to believes in the work they were doing out there. And I loved sitting there in a seat of honor next to Negan as if I were the only one. As his fingers laced with mine on the table I couldn't help but entertain the hope that maybe one day I could be.

 

"Damn, woman, what did you put in this?! It's downright sinful!" Simon exclaimed, stuffing another forkful in his mouth and groaning emphatically. Negan gave my hand a squeeze and we exchanged knowing smirks.

 

"Oh, Simon, you have no idea." 

 

As it turns out, the only thing better for happy food than music is incredible sex with an incredible man.


	2. Tuesday: You Talk Too Much

Today had been a rough fucking day. Negan had gone out on a quick run with The Saviors and when by noon they hadn't returned I knew something was amiss. I tried not to worry but I couldn't shake the nagging feeling like an itch I couldn't scratch. I was on my way back from the library when the trucks rolled up to the gates. I watched from the landing window as somber faces piled out of the trucks. Negan was the last to emerge and I sighed in relief a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. That momentary flash of positivity was suffocated when Negan and Simon began to pull a person- sized roll of cloth from the back of a truck. The two of them with the help of a few others carried the obviously heavy object on their shoulders. My stomach sank as I realized what it must be: they lost somebody.

 

I hurried down to my room, remembering the last time he had lost someone. Watching him fall to pieces like that had been jarring and had been the start of the evolution of our relationship from sex and convenience to this profound intimacy. We didn't talk about it, didn't need to. It just is what it is.

 

I arrived at my room without really paying attention to how I'd got there. I kicked the door shut behind me and set the books down on the dresser. I wasn't sure he'd come to me, very possible that he'd rock up with one of the others to fuck the pain away. I wanted to be here and ready if he did, though.

 

I was laying on my bed reading when the door opened and he stepped inside. I could feel the tension coming off of him in waves from across the room as he clicked the lock into place. I set the book down and sat up, freezing in place as our eyes met and I registered the manic expression on his face.

 

"I need you." He took a shuddering breath and waited for my reply, my acceptance. I nodded and in five hurried steps we collided.

 

His mouth was hungry and possessive as it left burning trails of white- hot passions from my kiss- swollen lips, to my open thirst, to the collarbones left exposed by the neckline of my t- shirt. My hands cradled his head as he consumed me, one buried in his disheveled curls and one resting on his flushed cheek.

 

He moved back up, claiming me in a searing kiss that had me whimpering into him as his mouth possessed mine. He needed my submission tonight and I relinquished effortlessly. I don't remember losing my shirt, too intoxicated with his desperate ministrations to notice. He sucked and bit at my neck as his hands moved up and down my bare torso. He squeezed and palmed roughly at my breasts causing me to moan and arch into him. His mouth replaced one hand on my breast as he continued to thumb and roll the other between his calloused fingers. His other hand cupped me through my jeans as he sucked and nipped at my nipple, the rough hair of his beard burning pleasantly the tender flesh there.

 

He tore at the fastening of my pants, slipping his hand into my panties. My hips bucked and I moaned wantonly as his middle finger glided through my slick to press against my clit. He sat up suddenly, ripping my pants down my legs and tearing off his own clothes. I watched as piece by piece his toned musculature was exposed to me. I wanted to taste him and spend hours learning him, making love to him, but that's not what he needed right now.

 

His mouth crashes back down to mine and I couldn't help the noises I made at the feeling of his body on mine. My hands roamed down his back as my legs tangled with his, wanting and needing all of him. One of his hands captures mine, holding them above my head as he focused his ministrations on the sensitive spot on my neck, marking me and causing me to cry out. My body writhed beneath him, teasing the friction he so desperately needed.

 

He sat up and flipped me over beneath him, shoving my head down and pulling my hips up off the bed, manhandling me deliciously. He thrust into my without warning, my cry of pleasure lost under the primal growl that tore from his chest as he set a demanding pace. One hand was splayed between my shoulder blades to keep me in place as he fucked me into the mattress. The other was brought down periodically on the reddening skin of my ass with resounding cracks. Each slap was punctuated with a cry if my own and a strangled grunt from him.

 

The hand on my back twisted into my hair and pulled sharply while the other snaked around my front to begin its assault on my clit. He was getting close, the punishing pace he had set began to faulted as his thrusts became erratic. His fingers rubbed furiously as he tried desperately to make me finish before he did, ever the gentleman.

 

My orgasm hit without warning. My body shook and spasmed so hard his arms wrapped around my middle to keep me in place as his hips faultered and he found his own finish. He came with a roaring cry that I had never heard before. We both collapsed down on the bed, utterly spent. After a few minutes he rolled off of me before pulling me into a tight embrace.

 

My eyelids were heavy but I fought off sleep, needing to be sure he was okay first. I waited until his heartbeat slowed and his breathing evened out before I tried to move. He tightened his grip on me and placed a kiss to the top of my head. I tilted my head back to look at him and noted the troubled shadows still lurking in his tires eyes.

 

"Tell me." A whispered request I wasn't sure he'd meet. He closed his eyes, the lines of his forehead accentuated by his furrowed brow. He opened his mouth but paused as if unsure how to start. I reached up and lay my hand gently on his cheek, thinking how I would kill to see those dimples right now. He opened his eyes and the vulnerability there made my breath hitch.

 

When he started it all poured out like the breaking of a dam. Guilt, fear, sorrow, anger, loss, frustration... he just wanted to save the world but it was like it didn't want saving. I listened intently and felt my heart swell. He finished with a sigh and looked down at me where I beamed back up at him.

 

"Why are you looking at me like that?" His voice was soft and I fought to repress a giggle as color crept up his neck.

 

I leaned up, holding his face in my hands. I kissed him gently, hovering over his lips before kissing him again.

 

"You talk too much." I smiled jokingly down at him. His hand came to rest on my neck as he reciprocated. His kiss was long and slow and full of tongue.

 

"You're right, darling, I can think of far better uses of my mouth." I giggled as he flipped us, smiling brilliantly with this precious dimples I loved so much.


	3. Wednesday: You Like To Hold It

The noise he made as I sucked at the pad of his thumb was nothing short of sinful. I looked up at him through long black eyelashes, saw his beautiful hazel eyes cloudy with lust as he palmed himself through his denim.

 

"Kneel." He growled and I dropped to my knees without hesitation. The clink of his belt and the drag of his zipper thrilled me. He reached into his pants began touching himself. So rough and needy. "Are you gonna be my dirty girl?" I nodded quickly. "I said, are you gonna be my dirty girl?" Each word was punctuated with a stroke of his hand in his pants.

 

"Yes sir."

 

"That's a good girl." He stepped towards me and withdrew his hand from his pants that were now teepee'ed with his arousal. I reached out and eased his pants down, licking my lips as his weeping cock sprang free. I took him in my hand, relishing the sheer size and weight of him. "You like to hold it, don't you Dirty Girl?"

 

"Yes sir." I smiled lecherously up at him before spreading his Previn around the head of his cock. I have him one good pump before giving in to my need to taste him. I flattened my tongue against the underside of his cock and slowly dragged myself up the vein. When I got to the head, now sticky with precum, I made eye contact before taking it in with an obscene slurp. My tongue dipped into its slit and danced around its circumference as my hands worked his shaft and massaged his balls. I began to bob my head, slowly taking more with every downward motion and sucking with all my might on the way up.

 

His hands tangled in my hair and he began to mutter incoherently. I began to move faster, spurred on by his response. It didn't take long for his hips to start moving in time with me. I took this opportunity to tease him; dragging my teeth lightly down, sucking slowly up, and then releasing him with a pop. I smiles innocently at him as I stroked him languidly, noting the veins that stood prominently on his neck. I licked lightly at the tip, gauging his reaction.

 

I never in a million years expected what happened next. His hands that were still tangled in my hair were removed and he pulled me down on him. He began fucking my mouth at a brutal pace causing me to gag and tears run down my face as I gasped for breath between thrusts. The sounds that filled the room were like a soundtrack to my filthiest fantasies. His hips began to faulted and I prepared myself for his finish. My fingernails takes down his thighs as I hummed around him.

 

He finished with a series of deep grunts as he spilled his hot seed down my throat. I swallowed him, every drop, before he pulled me up for a bruising kiss so that he could taste himself on me.

 

That was one hell of a marriage proposal.


	4. Thursday: Famished

The day Negan had told us that he wanted us to start spending time in the daycares to help out a bit, I'd suspected there was more to the story. I'd seen him with the kids, saw how much joy they brought him, and I couldn't help but wonder if the point to the whole harem thing had been in the hopes of becoming a father himself. I never asked him about it outright but it was always on the back of my mind. 

 

The other wives had bitched and moaned about daycare days, it wasn't a part of the arrangement they had married into after all, but I fucking loved it. I'd been a counselor at a children's camp in the old days and that lifestyle and the skills I learned with it had saved my ass a fair few times. I loved kids, all that blind hope and potential and light shining out from their tiny little bodies. I'd missed working with them and there had been many nights out in the broken hell we lived in now that that I'd lay looking at the stars and hoping that somewhere up there they were happy and at peace. 

 

I loved the daycare but damn if there weren't days when I trudged back to my room and fell in the bed fully clothed to sleep like the dead (the old dead not the new dead) until one of the others came to wake me the next morning. I was fortunate that my daycare days had never fell on one of my Negan nights. 

 

Spending the day wrangling toddlers only to spend the night being wrangled by a fully grown toddler, well it sounds fun in theory but damn. 

 

I knew my night with Negan had come to fall on one of my daycare days and had tried fruitlessly all week to get one of the other wives to switch me one or the other but to no avail. They hated their own daycare shifts and there was no way they were picking up another and as far as doubling up on Negan days... there wasn't enough lube left in the world for that.

 

Don't get me wrong, I loved my nights with Negan. The man could fuck like the devil himself and over time I'd really grown to care for him more than I'd ever admit to the other wives who unanimously seemed to hold him in contempt. I really didn't see why; we had it made. We lived in comfort in a world of pain and cruelty, he treated us with kindness and all he asked for in return was mind blowing sex and faithfulness. If they'd just give him a little elbow room.... whatever. 

 

My footsteps were leaden as I walked down towards Negan's room. There was paint in my hair and playdough in my bra. Honestly I'd never felt less sexy in my life and all I wanted was a stiff drink and a long nap. Standing outside his door and trying to make myself look presentable I knew I'd be getting just about no sleep and the only stiff anything I'd be getting was...

 

"Ah there you are! I was just about to come find you!" Negan leaned against the doorway with a devilish smirk. Any other night I'd push him back in the room and fuck that smug look right off his face but I just didn't have the energy tonight. I managed a coy smile.

 

"Sorry I'm late. The kids.... it's a long story." Negan reached out and tucked a lock of hair that had escaped my ponytail back behind my ear. I reached up and caught his hand before he could draw it back and gave it a soft squeeze. If I couldn't pull of sexy maybe the coy thing could work for me. His smile softened and he pulled me into the room, shutting the door. 

 

His hands cupped my face and neck, slender fingers tangling in the fine hairs at the base of my neck. His lips were gentle and pliant as they caressed my own. We'd never been like this before. My arms sought him out, one hand resting on his chest and the other wrapping around his waist to stroke gentle circles on his back. His kiss deepened and even as tired as I was I couldn't deny the pooling I felt in my lower belly. Damn the things this man could do to me. 

 

I sighed as he pulled away and planted a kiss to my forehead.

 

"I'm gonna go wash up doll, nothing kills the mood like some killer swamp ass. Make yourself comfortable, I'll be back in no time." He stroked his fingers down my cheek before turning and striding over to the bathroom. I waited until I heard the shower start before I began pulling my clothes off unceremoniously. I found the bit of playdough that had been eluding me and fluffed my post- pony hair the best I could before settling on the bed, thoroughly enjoying the scent of him that washed over me as I reclined. 

 

I woke slowly, more refreshed than I'd felt in ages. I turned over without opening my eyes, perfectly content to let myself drift back to sleep. In inhaled deeply the smell that wasn't my pomegranate conditioner and my eyes shot open. This wasn't my room. 

 

I sat bolt upright and looked around at my surroundings. The late morning sun filtered in through the window and set a warm glow to everything it touched, including a well- worn black leather jacket draped over the back of a chair. Fuck. 

 

The door to the room opened with a click and I scrambled to cover my bare torso. Negan stepped in, humming a tune I didn't recognize, and set Lucille down by the door before turning and making eye contact. I was noticeably relieved when he smiled brightly at me. I suddenly felt embarrassed at the prospect of having slept through Negan night. I knew he wouldn't have touched me without consent which begged the question of why he was smiling at me like that despite the blue balls I'd given him last night. 

 

"Mornin' beautiful." He sauntered over and sat on the edge of the bed next to me. I smiled shyly, still covering myself with the duvet. We sat in silence a moment before he cleared his throat to speak. "Did you know you talk in your sleep?" My head whipped up to look at him and he laughed.

 

"Shit what did I say?" My eyes must have been as big as saucers as I stared back at him while he continued to chuckle. 

 

"I won't get into specifics but damn you have a filthy fucking mouth." I blushed deeply as a million and a half possibilities flitted through my mind. "Don't be embarrassed, doll, it's cute." 

 

"I'm sorry I fell asleep, Negan. The kids really wear me out sometimes." I offered an apologetic smile and he shook his head. 

 

"Don't worry about it, love. I've seen you down there with 'em. They love you to pieces, which is more than I can say for any of the other by a large margin. Nothing turns me on like a woman good with kids. An instinctual thing I think." The last bit was more of an after thought than anything and the time he spoke with took me back. It was gentle, almost nostalgic. 

 

"It must be almost lunchtime, I'm sure you're hungry..." I dropped the blanket and moved to leave, suddenly feeling that I was intruding somehow. Large hands pushed me gently back down on the bed. 

 

"Oh baby... I'm famished." His kisses were nothing like last night. Needy and hot openmouthed movements that trailed from my mouth to my throat leaving a pleasant burn from the scrape of his beard. My hands were in his hair as his mouth captured one nipple and began a tortuous assault before moving on to repeat the motion on the other. Sucking roughly at one nipple while one of his hands lavished the other with similar attention. 

 

The noise I made when his finger wet itself in my arousal was hardly human and was met with a moan of appreciation from him. He kissed sloppily down my body, wasting no time in getting to his meal.

 

I mewled pathetically as he dragged his tongue through me, flattening it against my hardening clit. He started slow, gauging my reactions to his movements before settling on a spot that had me moaning and grasping at my breasts in ecstasy. 

 

I was so worked up by the time he pushed his fingers into me that I couldn't hold the scream that echoed through the room as my hands tangled in his hair and my back bowed up off the bed. I was so close, mumbling incoherently as his mouth and hands continued to work me over. He shifted his body on the bed to get more comfortable and the change in position sent me rocketing over the edge in a violent orgasm. I screamed his name as he worked through my orgasm prolonging its glow.

 

I looked down at him in awe and saw his satisfied grin coated in my cum. He moved back up next to me, planting little kisses as he went. He nuzzled at my neck as my breathing evened out.

 

"I hope you didn't have plans today, love, because I'm just getting started."


	5. Friday: Revenge

Large hands moved up my body leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake. The pleasant prickle of his beard insulation the scorching heat of his wet, openmouthed kisses. Kissing, stroking, grinding everywhere but where I needed. He was so close to giving me what I was now so achingly desperate for.

 

The tinny ring of my wind- up alarms clock ripped me from the sanctuary of my dreams. I groaned with frustration and reached for the switch to silence the cursed cockblocking piece of shit. With silence once again settling in around me I began to drift back off. My fingers tangled in his hair as he kissed down my ribcage, paying extra attention to the script engraved in ink there. Kissing lower, slower, dipping his tongue into my navel and making me giggle. His fingers hooked into the lacy hen of my thong that had become abrasive when soaked with my need for him. I needed them gone.

 

The piercing ring of the alarm brought me back to reality with a harsh snap. I grabbed the clock and hurled it at the wall where it stuck in the Sheetrock with a final satisfying clink. The needy ache between my legs demanded attention but the soft glow of morning light creeping across the room told me I was already late.

 

The wives weren't required to work but the mere thought of sitting around all day was enough to drive me stir crazy. I opted instead to devote my time to helping out where it was needed, be a team player. It helped take some of the weight off people's shoulders and made for a happier community which in turn made for a happier Negan.

 

Negan. The ghost of my dream sent shivers down my spine and intensified the need that had gone unsatiated. Tonight wasn't my night but I knew from experience that with a bit of finesse that could change. I also knew that Negan has a lunch meeting with The Saviors today and I was sure that the kitchen would appreciate the extra set of hands. Looking at my closet I smiled a Cheshire grin; a set of helping hands weren't the only thing I'd be bringing to the table.

 

I'd been right, of course, about the kitchens needing help and, as I felt the way eyes roamed up and down my longs legs left bare by the fluttering hem of my skirt and the curve of my breasts under the teasing neckline of my top, a new plan began to form. If seeing me traipsing around like this wasn't enough, surely some harmless flirtation would do the trick. Let's just hope for their sake that none of the Saviors tried to push the envelope. As hot as it was to watch Negan being Mr. Big Dick In Charge, the last thing I wanted was another death on my conscience.

 

I tried my best to settle my nerves as I followed behind the first cart with a cart of my own. The server ahead of me knocked and I took a deep breath before being ushered inside by Dwight who didn't even disguise the way his gaze plunged right down my shirt. I kept my head down as I worked and tried to repress my smirk as Negan paused mid- sentence only to pick back up a beat later. I had his attention.

 

I began to really milk it knowing that he was watching my every move. The only man who had the good sense to keep his eyes to himself was Simon who stared silently down at his plate while food was served. One of the others dropped silverware and as I knelt to retrieve it I caught negans eye. His jaw clenched as he looked down my shirt where my breasts lay bra- less. I watched him squirm in his seat, trying to readjust himself without being blatantly obvious about it. I decided to pick it up a notch. The last plate of food sat on the bottom rack of the cart. I moved, hyper aware of his burning gaze.

 

I bent slowly at the middle, legs crossed, so that my skirt lifted up over the curve of my ass. My decision to forego undergarments was paying off immensely. I cast a look behind me to meet Negan's lust blackened gaze before tossing my hair over my shoulder as I stood, giving the plates recipient a coy smile. I left the room without a second glance, thoroughly satisfied with my little performance.

 

I was feeling very pleased with myself as I returned the cart and decided to go for a stroll. The meetings typically lasted for at least another hour and I knew that when Negan set his mind to something there was damn near nothing that anyone could do to break that. If he wanted me he would find me. The thrill of the hunt would only make the catch that much more rewarding.

 

I was up on the third level, enjoying the way the light danced in the dust that hung in the air when a pit of leather clad arms grabbed me and pushed me up against the wall. I whipped around to meet him face to face. His breath smelled of bourbon and cigars which mixed with the smell of the leather and the essence of pure masculinity that oozed from him.

 

His kiss was bruising and let I let myself melt into him, giving in to his dominance as I'd wanted to all along. One hand wrapped around my throats as his tongue pillaged my mouth with ease.

 

"You're playing with fire, baby girl." He whispered hoarsely. My only reply was a pitiful moan as a leather clad finger glided through the arousal that had begun to coat my thighs. I whimpered and clutched at his shoulders as he pushed two fingers inside. My cries echoed through the landing as he brought me to the edge and then pulled away.

 

"What makes you think I'm gonna let you cum after fucking teasing me like that?" He dragged his tongue up the hollow of my throat. "That's a fucking privilege you're going to have to earn back." I gleaned and closed my eyes as he grinded himself against my leg. "My room. Now." He hissed. He walked away, knowing I'd follow, and led the way up another level to his room. I couldn't wait to taste his sweet fucking revenge.

 

We were barely in the door before he yanked me over to where he sat at the edge of the couch and pulled me across his lap. He flipped my skirt up to expose my ass the way I had before. His hand rubbed at the soft flesh there before coming down with a resounding crack that had me crying out in shock.

 

"Count them out, every last one of them like the good little slut you are and maybe Daddy will let you cum all over his big fat cock." I moaned in response, pushing my ass back against his hand in a plea for more.

 

The first, second, and third swats came in quick succession across the quickly reddening flesh of my backside. The cruel pleasure- pain sending a fresh wave of arousal to my nether that had begun to leave a wet spot on his leg. My voice began to quake as the crack of his hand on my tender ass got louder until I could no longer hold back the cry I'd been repressing. I trembled as he rubbed gently at the angry skin.

 

"That's my good girl." He soothed. He stood me up just long enough to reach over to his nightstand for the bottle of lotion. He motioned for me to lay back across his lap as he warmed a dollop between his now bare hands. I jumped slightly as he began to apply the lotion to skin that would definitely be bruised tomorrow. It was only when I had once again relaxed against him that he dipped a finger down into my wetness. I immediately began to buck back against him, desperately chasing the orgasm he had stolen from me before. My keening moans began to grow louder as my orgasm rushed towards me. I almost cried when he removed his fingers again. I twisted to look back at him and he smirked.

 

"I did say maybe." He suggested. My jaw dropped as I stared at him incredulously. "Only teasin' darlin', get that fine little ass on the bed." He gave my still- tender ass a gentle squeeze as I walked unsteadily over to the bed, stripping as I went. I lay back and watching him strip, unable to stop myself from dipping my own fingers into my core. He watched with mouth unhinged as I brought my fingers to my lips and sucked them clean. He licked his lips, voice husky when he spoke.

 

"Now, doll, didn't we just learn that it isn't nice to tease?"

 

"I'm not teasing," my voice dropped slightly, "I'm offering."

 

He was on me in an instant, hands roaming and mouth claiming every inch of bare flesh he could reach. 

 

"I'm going to fuck you until the only fucking word you remember is my goddamn name." He thrust into me with an animalistic growl that sent tingles down my spine. He fucked into my at a punishing pace, mumbling obscene nonsense punctuated by my shameless cries for more. The headboard rocked against the wall so hard I knew there'd be a hole. My orgasm was building fast and I knew that this time I couldn't hold back.

 

"Negan..." I whimpered and he seemed to understand. He leaned forward until his full weight was on me, the hair on his chest tickling my stiffened nipples. He ducked and bit at the tinder skinnif my neck, never breaking his brutal rhythm.

 

"Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine..." he growled. My orgasm hit me with such force that it bowed both of us up off the bed. My body convulsed around him and true to his word the only word that spilled from my lips like a litany of prayer was his name. My orgasm milked him as he began to thrust wildly to chase his end. He came with a series of wordless shouts before collapsing down on top of me.

 

Our breathing began to even out and he rolled to the side before pulling me in close. My body was like jelly and my mind was a jumbled mess of sensation.

 

"What the fuck." He laughed before glancing down where I fought to keep my eyes open. "Have I ever mentioned that you're my favorite?"


End file.
